Page 34 of My Undead Love Life

“But—”

“If he's alive, he'll try to find you.”

The words hung in the stale tunnel air between us all.

Spencer stared at him with uncertainty.

“If he's alive,” Luck continued gently, “the best thing we can do is make sure you're somewhere he can actually find you.”

Her pretty brown eyes glistened. “But what if he's looking for me right now?”

“Then we need to take you home. He told us to get you home,” I reminded her quietly. “That’s where he’ll look for you.”

She looked down. “I know, but⁠—”

“We want a place to call home, too,” Oxi murmured, glancing back at her over his shoulder. “We need you to make it there and have a chance at home.”

Spencer blinked. “You do?”

He shrugged. “We've been surviving. That's not the same thing as living.”

“He’s right. We've been drifting a long time.” Luck rubbed a hand through his messy blond hair. “It'd be nice to feel semi-safe for once.”

“It’d be nice to sleep somewhere without wondering what's scratching at the door,” Oxi added.

That earned the faintest huff of amusement from Spencer. Her gaze drifted back toward the tunnel one last time.

Then, she slowly nodded. “Okay. Let's go home.”

Something about the way she said it made me think she wasn't talking about the Oasis. Not entirely. She was talking about Keith.

“We need to go southeast from the city to get there,” she told us.

“I know a route.” I adjusted my grip on the axe. “I mapped this city out years before the apocalypse.”

Luck groaned. “Of course you did.”

Oxi sighed dramatically. “See? Mad is mad.”

“I am prepared,” I corrected.

“Mad has maps memorized,” Luck emphasized.

“Exactly.” I nodded. “Prepared.”

Luck sighed. “That isn't helping your case the way you think it is, Mad.”

The corner of Spencer's mouth twitched upward. “At least we’re prepared.”

“That we are,” I promised as the four of us started walking.

It was silent except for the sound of our shoes scuffing against the concrete. The noise echoed through the tunnels in soft bursts.

I hated it. Silence never lasted long in the city. Not before and not after six years of the apocalypse. Eventually, there were always groans and shuffling feet. Or the distant scream of a survivor who hadn't been careful enough. Something.

The complete absence of noise made my skin crawl.

We passed several subway exits along the way, but none of them would put us close to the southeastern edge of the city. The tunnels weren't ideal, either, though. Underground meant fewer escape routes and fewer places to hide. But after being trapped in that service closet for so long, we were desperate to make up for lost time. And for now, the tunnels were quiet. So, we kept moving within them.